


You're The One That I Want

by AdamantSteve



Category: Grease (1978), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fusion, Gen, Identity Issues, M/M, Pining, Rydell High, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil starts at a new school after a beautiful summer romance. But then he meets the boy again and he's not quite the person Phil thought he was.</p><p>Grease/Avengers Fusion, for the 'Fusion' square of my Trope Bingo card.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're The One That I Want

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially the same story as Grease, with Clint in the Danny role and Phil in the Sandy one. Most of the rest of the Avengers make appearances as members of the Pink Ladies (not all of them ladies), the T-Birds and other students in the school.
> 
> Some of the scenes/things from the movie are cut for irrelevance to the central plot, and there are no dance numbers in this because... as awesome as that would be, I don't know how one would ever write a musical number in fanfiction? <3
> 
> As with the original, there is a degree of characters trying to push the boundaries of other characters with regards to sex, smoking and personal expression, so if that's the type of thing you feel you may have issues with, you might not want to read this. 
> 
> This was written with lots of help from [OrderlyChaos](http://chaosisorderly.tumblr.com/) and some cheerleading from people on [Tumblr](http://adamantsteve.tumblr.com/), and was beta read by lovely [Dunicha](http://dunicha.tumblr.com/). Without you guys it would have been impossible to write this!
> 
> As a side note: this story is set in the 1950s (as was Grease), but the social attitudes of the characters/the setting more realistically reflect those of more modern times. Which is to say: the central relationship here is a homosexual one, and I'm certain that in the actual 1950s that would have caused a great deal more consternation, but since this is meant to be lighthearted and in the same sort of tone as the original source material, I've glossed over that to a large degree.

It’s like something out of the cheesy romance novels his aunt buys, but Phil watches how the setting sun reflects in Clint’s eyes and thinks of kaleidoscopes and stained glass windows. Blues and greens and actual _purples_ , looking back at him as he just stares in disbelief. 

 

Eventually, Clint chuckles and dips his head, turning to watch the sun as it casts it’s oranges and pinks across the sea. “You’re really good looking,” Phil says stupidly, and then he’s dipping _his_ head in embarrassment. “Nah,” Clint says, “you’re the cute one.” 

 

Suddenly, Clint’s on top of him, knees either side of Phil’s hips as he leans down to kiss him. Their thirty-fourth kiss, Phil happily notes. He’s been counting them up since the first one, right on top of the ferris wheel a week after he got here. 

 

Phil’s heart twists with the kind of teenage longing he’s often rolled his eyes at in other people. He finally gets it. But it’s different with him and Clint. They’re soulmates. It’s stupid to think that, but it’s Phil’s first love, and he throws caution to the wind as the sun dips lower below the horizon.

 

-

 

Instead of Australia, Phil’s dad gets shipped out to the decidedly un-cool dead-centre of America. It could be worse, he supposes as he hugs his pencil case to his chest and goes up the steps to Rydell High, his new school. A hint of summer still lingers, students still in shorts and bare legs, but the leaves on the trees are turning different colours and there’s the promise of a chill in the air. He takes a deep breath and goes inside.

 

After the briefest of instructions from a very harried school secretary, Phil politely takes his class schedule and finds his history class with Mr Rivens. He sneaks in without being seen and having to stand up and do the whole introduction thing, sitting at the back of the class and trying to take everything in without having to ask any questions. A girl to his left with straight auburn hair and freckles gives him a friendly smile and nods to the textbook on his desk before holding out a note. 

 

As the teacher drawls on about things Phil really ought to be paying attention to, he gingerly takes the note and reads it.

_Hi! I’m Pepper! We’re on page 34. You’re new! Welcome to Rydell High, home of the most boring history lessons in the state! Are you Phil? Do you want me to show you around?_

 

Phil hastily turns to the relevant page before writing back.

_My name_ _is_ _Phil. Nice to meet you. I would love it if you showed me around! Thank you. This school is huge._

 

Pepper grins when she reads his reply but doesn’t write back, and Phil is glad of the opportunity to lose himself in the admittedly pretty tedious history class.

 

“So what was your last school like?” Pepper asks as they’re clearing their desks. “It was actually a place in England. My dad moves around a lot,” Phil replies. “I thought I would be going to Australia right now, actually.”

Pepper pulls a face. “Sorry you got dragged to Rydell, Australia sounds a lot more fun.” 

 

They walk down the hall and Pepper finds his locker for him and then finds a trash can for the strange debris of lunch remains from decades past. As they’re carefully extricating it with bits of paper and pencils, another girl in the same sort of pink jacket Pepper’s wearing runs up and squeals at them. She cries Peppers name as she engulfs her in a hug, and then they jump up and down in that curious way girls seem to do whatever country or state they’re in. When they’re done, the new girl, with long, wavy dark hair that’s been teased out extra big, framing her great big blue eyes, introduces herself. “Darcy Lewis, and you are the new boy! Rumour has it you’re from Australia.” 

How that rumour got around, Phil has no idea, since he hasn’t spoken to anyone except Pepper and the school secretary. “Actually I’m from Winnipeg. My family just moves around a lot.” 

“Phil’s in our art class,” Pepper tells Darcy, having perused his school schedule and drawn tiny little green stars on all the classes they share. “Oh awesome! What’ve you got now?” 

Phil looks down at the sheet. “French.” 

Darcy chews her gum noisily and wrinkles her nose. “That sucks. Come have lunch with us after!” 

Phil readily agrees. Anything’s better than eating lunch alone in a new school.

 

-

 

At lunch, another of the pink-jacketed ladies, a slightly mousy girl named Jane, joins them. According to the others, she’s the brain of the bunch, and Phil’s about to ask her where they are in the science syllabus, but they’re interrupted by someone rudely pushing between them and sitting down. 

 

“Tony!” Pepper complains, the guy - wearing the same pink jacket as the rest of them - mouths ‘What?’ at her before looking Phil up and down. “So you’re the new guy?” 

Darcy leans in and steals a french fry from Tony’s tray. “This is Tony Stark. Honorary gay member of the Pink Ladies.” 

“Honorary?” he says, glaring at Darcy as she pops the fry in her mouth and grinningly chews it. “I made these jackets, ok? There’s no honorary about it. Founding member, baby.” 

Phil just looks between them with a frozen smile on his face til Pepper leans in and whispers conspiratorially how Tony’s just kinda brash sometimes, but he’s a good guy underneath it. Phil’s relieved on the one hand but equally suddenly worried that they’ve all put gay and gay together and come up with...

 

“Darce,” Tony drawls, looking over Phil again. “ _Not_ my type.” 

“Tony!” Pepper and Jane scold, and he shrugs again. Phil gets the impression he does that alot. “Phil, baby, it’s not a reflection on you, ok? I would just... probably snap you.” 

“Oh my god,” Pepper moans, and Phil can feel himself blushing. He’s not even told anyone he’s gay, so how do they know? “Is it that obvious?” Phil asks. “I mean, that I’m gay.” Because he is so not attracted to Tony at _all_. 

 

“Not really,” Tony replies, taking a huge bite of the burger on his tray. Pepper explains. “Your old school sent a letter to the head of the student council, which is me.”

Phil whips his head to look at her. “My school sent you a letter saying I’m gay!?” 

They all laugh and Pepper shakes her head. “Not your school, your friend. Jasper?” 

She opens the little organiser thing she seems to carry everywhere she goes and hands Phil a folded letter. Sure enough it’s Jasper’s looping handwriting and it’s actually kind of sweet, pointing out how Phil’s less of a stick in the mud than he seems at first and how he’ll take an age to tell anyone he’s gay so it’d just be easier for him to say it for him. Phil tries to frown but can’t help the smile it puts on his face. Jasper’s an army kid too, so he knows how it can be. They’d had a conversation where Phil said it would be easier if everyone already knew so it wasn’t a big thing when it came out. 

 

“So anyway,” Darcy says, shaking a bottle of nail varnish in one hand. “I’m having a sleepover tonight, you wanna come?” 

 

-

 

At Darcy’s house they listen to Frankie Valli records and Phil lets Darcy paint his toenails a sickly shade of peach. Pepper and Jane get way too excited over homework and Tony smokes his way through half a pack of Luckies that he offers to Phil and then rolls his eyes when he refuses. 

 

The conversation turns to boys, and Phil blushes when they ask him about his summer. He tells them about the blond boy with his purple swimming shorts and their long picnics on the beach. Drinking lemonade and holding hands, nights wrapped in a blanket together and how he’d never kissed a boy before. They all agree it sounds most romantic, even Tony smiles softly at it, sighing at how sweet it all is. 

 

The conversation flows back to someone Pepper’s had her eye on in her chemistry class, a boy named Happy that Tony sneers at. He sneers at a lot of things. They all agree that Steve Rogers in his art class was ‘totally checking him out’, which Phil thinks is ridiculous, since Steve’s completely gorgeous and he’s, well. He’s at the gangly stage of adolescence.

 

“Just try one drag, c’mon Phil, live a little!” Tony cajoles, and this time Darcy joins in. It’s so naughty, if his parents found out they’d hit the roof, but Phil tries it, the smoke not seeming to do much other than make him cough. “You’re a real bad boy now!” laughs Darcy, and then she comes up with some plan to pierce his ear and really do him up as a greaser. Before Phil can do much of anything, she’s poked him with a needle and he runs to the bathroom and throws up, the smoke and the ear thing and the weird peach schnapps they’d all been sneaking sips of earlier mixing together to make him feel awful.

 

Jane passes him a glass of water and Phil kind of hides out in the bathroom for a while to collect himself. It’s all been such a lot to take in. He just wishes he was back on the beach with Clint. 

 

He sits on the closed toilet seat and sips his water, slowly getting back to normal, when he hears the others laughing. When he listens closer he hears what they’re saying. Tony’s doing an impression of him, “I drank two whole cups of lemonade! And we held hands for fifteen minutes!” and then laughing at how painfully virginal he is. 

 

After a while, once they’ve stopped making fun of him and moved on to joking about some guy named Thor at Jane’s expense, Phil reappears and takes his place next to Pepper on the bed. She nudges his shoulder and grins, and Phil feels a little less at odds with everything. 

 

When Darcy leaves out the window with a group of guys in a car, Tony rolls his eyes again. “That one’s gonna end up pregnant.” 

“You’re kinda mean,” Phil replies. 

Tony slowly grins at him. “Well hello there. I’m glad to see you finally coming out of your shell.” And Phil thinks that perhaps he’s starting to understand him. 

 

They watch the Ed Sullivan show while Pepper and Jane mess with each other’s hair and Phil tries to pick off the nail varnish. “What was your summer boy’s name?” Pepper asks around a mouthful of bobby pins. Phil looks up from his toes and says, “Clint Barton.” 

Tony chokes on his cigarette, but none of them tell him why.

 

-

 

At school the next day, Tony excitedly runs up to Phil and drags him away from where he was talking to Steve by the drinking fountains. “I have someone I want you to meet!” he says, dragging Phil along. They head toward a pretty large group, Darcy and Jane chatting away to some boys in leather jackets. 

 

They part as Phil draws close and there, right in the middle of them all, is Clint Barton. 

 

“Clint?!” Phil cries, and he has to stop himself from running forward and hugging him. He just stands there dumbly instead.

“Phil?!” Clint’s wearing the same kind of leather jacket as the other boys, a tight shirt and jeans under it and his hair slicked into an elaborate quiff. He grins, and oh how Phil’s missed that smile! He’s about to ask him a million questions, but just as soon as the grin is there, it’s gone, and Clint shrugs and curls his lip into a sneer. “I mean, what’s happening, slick?” 

Phil can’t help the way his face falls. “Slick?” 

Clint looks behind him at the other guys he’s with and shrugs again. “Whatever.” 

“What are you talking about, Clint?” 

“Is this the guy?!” Another of the boys - dark hair and holding a comb in his hand - says, looking Phil up and down skeptically. “The one who put out?!” 

Phil gasps and looks at Clint one last time before running away. 

 

He finds himself on the bleachers, empty and deserted in the windy field. He sits there and cries for a minute before sniffing and checking his watch. Still a while before lunch ends, so he’s not going to miss class. “Are you alright?” says a voice, and Phil looks over to see Steve’s face peering up at him from underneath the seats. 

“Did you see me crying!?” Phil asks, which admittedly wasn’t his best move. 

“No,” Steve lies, and then he grins. “You want some of my sandwiches? I have a bunch.” 

“Sure.” 

 

Steve comes up and sits next to Phil, offering so much food Phil’s surprised Steve could eat that much on his own. “I eat a lot,” he shrugs. 

 

They chat for the rest of lunch, and Phil feels silly for caring so much about what those others think of him. He’s a good person, he’s interesting. Steve seems to like him, and everyone likes Steve. He’s the football captain and he’s in just about every field sport they have at the school. Why he’s wasting time talking to Phil he can’t fathom, but they arrange to hang out at the weekend, and Phil finds himself looking forward to it when he can take his mind off of Clint.

 

Clint tries to talk to Phil a couple of times during the rest of the day but he’s busy or with other people and Clint kind of figures it’s just not worth it. Of course he’s lying to himself, but he can’t explain everything in a school corridor. So he turns his head and walks away.

 

-

 

Phil tries out for a few of the sports Steve’s in, but he’s just not up to par, and he’s never really been one for physical activity. Perhaps if they did judo at the school he’d give that a college try, but running and football and wrestling he’d rather give a miss. It’s just nice to do his homework on the bleachers and wave to Steve when he runs by, and he actually joins the cheer squad along with Pepper, but more in an organisational capacity than anything else. 

 

He sees Clint around the school a few times but they don’t share any classes, and he gives up trying to talk to him after a week or so. 

 

Phil’s watching Steve run track one day when he notices Clint on the other side of the field, doing some kind of weird lunges til the coach asks him what the hell he’s doing. They’re doing football tryouts and Clint, who’d confessed in the summer how much he hated sports, is trying out. He’s abysmal. The coach takes him out before he can get too mangled, and Phil feels something inside him relax when Clint goes to sit on the sidelines and take off the padding. Steve runs past and Phil almost doesn’t notice him. 

 

The following day Clint’s trying out for the track team. Phil tries to concentrate on his biology assignment but finds himself studying Clint instead, in his tiny little red shorts. Steve’s right beside him but he seems pretty interested too, since the try-outs are all potential teammates of his. Clint has two false starts before he finally makes it on time, and then waves at Phil as he gets close. Phil waves back and they grin at each other before Clint falls over a hurdle instead of jumping it. 

 

Before Phil really knows what he’s doing, he’s flown down the bleachers to Clint’s side and is pressing a handkerchief (Tony had found it hilarious that he carried around handkerchiefs) to the graze on his knee. It’s the first time they’ve touched since they said goodbye on the beach, and Phil savours the warm softness of Clint’s skin before realising quite what he’s doing. “Please go out with me,” Clint says, reaching out to Phil before he stands up. Phil grins despite himself, despite how cool he’s always trying to be about everything. “Ok,” he replies. 

 

He grins for the rest of the day.

 

-

 

Their date is a disaster. Clint practically constructs a fort out of laminated menus to hide behind, which is bad enough, but it doesn’t stop the rest of his ridiculous little gang and a few Pink Ladies pushing their way into their booth. 

 

Clint quirks his mouth in vague apology as their date turns into anything but. Darcy’s wearing a scarf wrapped around her hair that turns out to be covering hair that she’s managed to turn bright pink much to the amusement of everyone else. Phil’s torn between comforting her, stopping Bucky from copying his biology homework and trying not to get spilled milkshake all over him, not to mention actually talking to Clint. In the end Clint leaves with the rest of the guys and Phil’s left with a morose Darcy, trying to convince her that her hair really isn’t all that bad. 

 

Later on, Clint calls him and asks if they can go to the dance together. Phil’s always wanted to see Clint dance ever since he talked about winning competitions back in his old high school before he got kicked out of it, so he says yes, even though the idea fills him with dread. Phil has two left feet at the best of times. Still, if Clint wants him to come he’s more than happy to do it.

 

-

 

Clint picks Phil up in the ridiculous car he’s always driving his friends around in, and he’s thrown out the food containers and cigarette ends and given it a thorough clean, which Phil laughs at despite privately being incredibly touched. He’s wearing a new outfit Tony and Pepper helped him pick out and he was worried it might get ruined by some odd bit of grime from Clint’s car. Clint himself looks gorgeous. His bouffant the kind of thing his mother would frown at but Phil likes it, and Clint’s lavished extra attention on it tonight, not a hair’s out of place. Phil goes to touch it just to watch him flinch away. “Easy!” Clint cries. “Or I’ll have to start all over again.” He moves the rear-view mirror to look it over once they’re sitting in the car, and Phil is suddenly self-conscious about his own hair. “Do you think it would suit me?” he asks, and Clint looks at him in assessment. “Nah I like your hair how it is. You’re good looking enough to not need all the bells and whistles.” 

 

It’s the kind of thing Phil’s grandma might say and Clint laughs at the scowl he pulls. “I just mean I like you how you are.” 

That makes something warm and soft uncurl in Phil’s chest which only gets bigger when Clint leans over to open the glove-compartment to hand over a boutonniere. “God, I feel like such a girl,” Phil laughs, pinning the little purple flowers to his lapel. Clint’s wearing a matching one already and even though it looks for all the world like they could be two guys off to pick up their respective dates for a dance, something illicit flits through Phil knowing that half the town would clutch their pearls if they knew they were going together.

 

That’s half the reason that Phil’s a little reluctant about actually dancing, though, since there are cameras filming it for some TV special. And he’s a terrible dancer anyway. Clint hangs around on the edges of the action with Phil for a while, and they both quietly dance with various members of their groups. Darcy’s hair is a more... banana-esque shade now, and Thor is surprisingly talented at throwing a squealing Jane around the dance floor without crushing any toes. But Phil can tell Clint really wants to get into it, show off for the cameras properly, and he’s not doing it because of Phil. 

 

Phil’s about to whisper in his ear that it’s alright, he should just go ahead and dance with Pepper or someone, show everyone his awesome moves, but before he can, a hush falls over the room as a girl walks in who looks like something out of a magazine.

 

She has bright red hair, and it looks like a beating heart as the lights change colour in time with the music. She’s wearing a deep emerald green dress that shows off her tiny waist and, well. Phil’s never been one for boobs but even he can’t help but notice hers, and Clint’s staring at them. Before Phil can say anything, Clint runs to her and they hug briefly before starting to dance, the swoosh of her skirt swinging around Clint as he lifts her and throws her for the circle of people that instantly forms around them. 

 

Phil’s left standing there, part of the circle watching them as they perform ever more impressive moves, and it’s entrancing. They’re beautiful together, he thinks. “That’s Natasha,” Tony’s voice whispers in his ear, and he flinches to turn and see Tony standing there in a gold lamé jacket with a black shirt underneath it. “Clint’s ex-girlfriend,” he continues, and Phil feels his heart fall as he turns back to watch them. Clint’s swinging her around and looks so happy, satiny green and that red hair swirling around him, and Phil all of a sudden feels like he’s going to be sick, like the mass of bodies around him, the loud music, the cameras, Tony’s hideous gold jacket, all of it’s pressing in on him and he runs out, throwing open the fire escape doors and running out into the cool air of the evening. 

 

He’s not sure how long he’s out there, but the panic Phil felt soon wears off and he feels silly for having reacted like that. He catches his breath and steels himself to go back in when Clint’s head pops out the door and looks around for a moment before seeing Phil. “Hey! Are you ok?” 

Phil feels pretty ridiculous, but doesn’t want to say that. “I’m fine. Sorry I just needed some air.” 

“That’s ok, Sorry I danced with Natasha, she’s... an old friend. We uh, we won the dance contest,” he says, looking at his hands awkwardly. Phil tries to smile but it comes out insipid and wan. “That’s awesome,” he says, and he tries to mean it, but he can’t stop himself from thinking how inconvenient he is. It makes sense for Clint to have the beautiful, dangerous, sexy girlfriend, not a big nerdy dork boyfriend like Phil. 

 

He’s trying to figure out how to explain that when Clint closes the space between them and lifts his head with a finger just under his chin. “You wanna go? Let’s go.” 

“We don’t have to,” Phil starts, but Clint kisses him as much to shut him up as anything, Phil suspects. “Ok,” he says instead. 

 

-

 

They go to the drive-in, a box of popcorn to share and whatever schlocky B-movie it is this week. A girl runs through a forest on screen, the radio crackling the soundtrack as branches crack under her feet. Clint yawns and puts his arm around Phil, and Phil laughs at the cheesy move but settles closer anyway. It’s good when it’s just the two of them, with no rowdy friends or loud dances or gorgeous ex-girlfriends in the way. It feels right. 

 

The girl on screen screen shrieks at something, and Phil jumps when the monster flashes up on screen along with a sharp string-section sting. Clint laughs and Phil rolls his eyes. “That was scary, ok?” 

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” 

Clint starts kissing Phil’s neck instead of watching the movie, and Phil feels like he’s going to melt into the floor. He’s about to move so he can do the same to Clint, make out at the movies like he’s always wanted to, but Clint’s hand is suddenly running up his thigh and then it’s right there on Phil’s crotch and he pulls away. “Clint,” he says, trying to move out of his clutches. “Don’t!” 

“Aw c’mon, Phil. I just wanna make you feel good.” 

Phil squirms in his seat and looks pointedly at Clint’s hand til he removes it. “Not yet. And not in a _car_!” 

Clint huffs and sits back in his seat properly, his hands at ten and two on the wheel. “Fine,” he grits out. “Whatever.” 

They sit in silence for a bit watching teenagers getting eaten alive by some sort of black goo. Phil would have been happy to keep necking, but Clint’s apparently done with that now. “Tash woulda let me,” he says under his breath.

 

Phil doesn’t even realise he’d gotten out of the car til he hears Clint’s voice calling ‘Phil! Phil!’ behind him. But he keeps going, keeps running til he’s standing panting in the field behind the screen, watching a man being consumed by the ever-growing monster as he tries to slash at it with a knife. He’ll never be what Clint wants, he thinks, though he’s honestly not sure what that even is. 

 

He sits on a haybale, the prickly bits of straw poking him through the seat of his pants. He’s not even sure why he ran. He wants to make out with Clint, wants to go all the way with him one day. Now he thinks about it he’s not even sure why he stopped him. He’s certainly jerked off enough times to the idea of doing that sort of stuff with Clint. 

 

A boy heroically saves a girl on the silent screen, the images angled strangely from where Phil’s sitting. Apparently simple table salt can repel the beast as if it’s just a giant slug. Phil pulls off his boutonniere and looks at it, twirling it in his fingers. Clint tried pretty hard to get back into Phil’s good books, what with all the sports try outs, he thinks. And the date going bad wasn’t his fault so much as their overzealous friends. And he left the dance early for him too, even though they’d won whatever it was. 

 

Phil sighs and stands up, brushing the straw from his suit before heading back to the cars. Clint has gone, but he finds Tony, Pepper and Darcy celebrating Pepper apparently not being pregnant, which is something he had no idea about, but they all seem pretty relieved so Phil congratulates her too. 

It’s Tony who asks what happened with Phil, how come he’s wandering round the drive-in sans-car. Phil’s suddenly glad of Tony, someone who maybe has some idea of what he’s going through. 

 

All it takes is Phil asking, “do you think you could help me?” for the three of them to whirr into action.

 

-

 

The next day, ear sore from the needle Darcy stuck through it, all of the Pink Ladies, of which Phil is apparently a member now, go to the mall. Tony leads the makeover, kitting Phil out in the most starchy blue jeans he’s ever worn, a shirt that feels like it’s at least a size too small, a leather jacket which takes all of Phil’s savings and a little more borrowed from Tony who handwaves it on the promise that Phil can’t get mad if he asks Steve out. Phil’s barely even thought of Steve the last few weeks, and suddenly feels like a terrible person, but Jane assures him that it’s fine. He feels like he’s not quite getting something, but before he can find out more, Darcy gets her bright pink claws on him.

 

Darcy actually does an impressive job on Phil’s hair. It’s too short for a proper quiff but she does what she can with what he has, and while it’s nothing compared to Clint’s or Bucky’s, it makes Phil feel giddily unrecognisable when he catches sight of himself in the mirror. 

 

The earring hurts like hell but he has to admit that it rather sets off the whole thing. The four of them stand back and admire their handiwork. “You know, we could go into business,” Tony remarks, rooting through Darcy’s bag for a cigarette that he hands to Phil to add to the effect. Phil doesn’t know how to hold it, so Tony takes it from him to tuck it behind his (non-pierced) ear. “There. You look positively criminal.” 

“Is that good?” Phil asks with a grimace. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Darcy answers with an eyeroll. 

 

-

 

On the way over to the fair, Phil’s worried that Clint won’t show up, or he’ll be there with Natasha, or someone else, but luckily he’s standing there with the rest of his friends right by the entrance. He’s wearing a letterman jacket. And... slacks? 

“What the _hell_?” Darcy whispers, tipping her sunglasses down her nose to get a better look at Clint Barton dressed like a jock, or some odd approximation of a jockish nerd. Phil doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry, or if the feeling in his chest is fear, love or embarrassment, and if it’s that, whether it’s for himself or for Clint.

 

The rest of the T-Birds are awkwardly stood by him, and Thor whoops with delight when he sees Jane, loping over and lifting her out of the car before spinning her around. They rush off to the bumper cars with the rest of their respective groups trailing behind them, Tony patting Phil on the shoulder on his way past and whispering, “Good luck.” 

 

“Phil you look...” Clint starts, before he catches sight of Phil’s bright red ear, when he draws in a sharp intake of breath. “Are you ok?! Who did this?” 

Phil toes the dirt. “Darcy.” 

“I like it,” Clint says, and he brushes the very tip of his finger around the top edge of Phil’s ear. 

“Ow!” 

Clint grins. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are _you_ wearing anyway? Where did you get this?” Phil pulls at the jacket but then keeps a hold of it, and they’re in the middle of everyone but he just doesn’t care. Neither of them are themselves right now, and it’s almost like it’s not real. 

“Lost Property,” Clint confesses, and they laugh, even closer now. “You look weird,” he says, but it’s sweet, like he misses the way Phil usually looks. “So do you,” Phil returns. 

 

Clint bites his lip. “Here,” he says, shrugging the jacket off. “Swap with me.” 

It’s hot, too hot for either jacket really, but Phil slips the letterman on instead of the leather, and feels a little more like himself. He can’t help the grin that sets up camp on his face. “That’s better,” Clint says, and then he takes the cigarette and puts it behind his own ear. 

“The jeans look good, though, turn around?” 

“Clint,” Phil says, bashful, but he does it anyway and Clint whistles. Phil’s blushing when he steps back close. 

“I’m sorry I keep running off.”

Clint hesitates before he speaks, looking over Phil’s face and catching sight of the little gold stud. “It’s ok. As long as you come back.” 

Phil nods. “I really like you.” 

“I really like you, too,” Clint grins, and Phil takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss him, and even though it’s really too hot for it, Clint’s hands on his waist feel perfect. 

 

They laugh when they pull away, and then Clint’s pulling Phil towards the funhouse, where they fall into one another accidentally on purpose on multiple occasions. 

 

On the big Ferris wheel, somehow it breaks down when Phil and Clint are right at the top, so they take the opportunity to make out profusely, dimly aware of Tony yelling “You’re welcome!” somewhere far below. 

 

As the afternoon stretches towards evening, the sky turns a thousand shades of pink and orange, blues and purples and splashes of red. They reflect in Clint’s eyes when Phil gets a good look at them between making out against his car, the both of them tasting like soda and candyfloss. 

 

They get some odd looks from the few adults dotted around, and Phil’s not sure what’ll happen in the long term, but they’re thinking of sending men into space, the age of aquarius is just around the corner, and it seems like anything is possible. Two people falling in love seems pretty small in the grand scheme of things, and it doesn’t seem all that far fetched to think it might work out. 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
